


Bucky drabbles

by grus



Category: Captain America (Comics), Marvel 616, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 05:44:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grus/pseuds/grus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky drabbles, originally written for comic drabbles @ lj, crossposted here for the Bucky Barnes: Remember Who You Are collection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bucky drabbles

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a Bucky noob, so I'm very sorry if these are majorly OOC or don't work with canon, but I tried my best :)

Title: Bullets and Ballerinas  
Fandom: Marvel 616 (main continuity)  
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanova  
Rating: PG  
Word count: 288  
Warnings: mentions of death and violence (nothing graphic)  
Challenge: #003 Dancing  
A/N Based mainly on the Winter Soldier ongoing as I still have a lot to catch up on with these two. 

He beholds the grace of her movements while covering her with his sniper rifle. A cartwheel to evade a deadly bullet, a spinning kick to a guard's jaw, a split jump, almost impossible in its height... the moves of a martial artist, a gymnast, sometimes a ballerina... 

He isn't joking when he says she could be an actual one, not just a puppet of the Red Room using that guise as cover. In a different life time she would perform for thousands and not just him and her soon to be victims. But this is the life they both share, partly through choice, partly through implausible coincidence. They both live with a conscience heavy with sins partly their own, partly not, but still theirs enough for them to feel their weight. She has redeemed herself, however, and he is just starting on that road.

He beholds her again. Now panting and surrounded by several men grovelling on the ground. Her unfortunate dance partners. He did not need to take even one shot. He remembers the time he was her mentor, her better, and it seems even farther than in reality. He's good, and he knows it, but she is exceptional. He feels proud to have been part of her training even though that was only partly him. What they built together back then is the only thing of worth from that grim time. Even more so, though, he is glad to have her at his side. A willing partner for the daily dance with death they have embarked upon. She smiles in his general direction. He smiles back even though, he knows she can't see it. 

In the evening he'll have to take her for a proper dance...

 

 

Title: Playing dress up to war  
Fandom: Marvel 616 (main comic continuity) - Captain America  
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers (shippy only if you're so inclined)  
Rating: PG  
Word count: 500  
Warnings: mild language, vagues mentions of war and past character death

 

When Bucky first tries on his uniform... or rather costume, because no one in their right mind would call this a uniform, he has to fight the urge to roll his eyes at the reflection in the dirty, old mirror. 

The shirt is decent... even though it looks like it was torn off a Civil War veteran. The mask is ridiculous. It will hardly conceal his identity and who needs that at a war anyway? It's a war not a costume ball, goddamit. And is he supposed to carry a supply of spirit gum on himself from now on? 

The mask is starting to feel itchy and he hopes it's not an allergy. 

But this he can deal with. 

Heck, he can even deal with the short pants. It's not like he hadn't worn a pair like this just a few years back. And he got the briefing all right. He was to be Cap's kid partner. A sixteen year old highly trained killing machine pretending to be twelve at most, and sweet, and innocent, and in this whole mess completely "by chance". 

His small for a sixteen year old frame was part of why they picked him. He's supposed to appeal to the children. To make them think that war wasn't as scary if a kid like them could go to it. To make them believe that dad can come back after all. 

And it's all good and fine, but the tights... Are they red to draw the fire to his legs? Are they going to chafe? Tear on bushes? Can "wearing the flag" get more literal? 

He turns his head to look at Steve. Yes, it can. 

Steve is standing next to him, all buff from the super soldier serum, his physique further accentuated by the stripes and stars covering him. The cowl conceals his youthful face and floppy hair. It all makes him look like he was twice Bucky's size and age, and more like a dad to him than a buddy. 

Which is ridiculous, Steve being only four years older than him. 

He looks in the mirror again and sees himself starting to get that sour face he's so bad at controlling. Months of excruciating training only to become the cartoon incarnation of "liberty and justice for all". He can already see himself being the laughing stock of anyone older than eight. Maybe ten if he's lucky. 

But then he feels a warm and reassuring hand on his shoulder. He looks up at Steve again and there's that smile that would make anyone jump in the fire. But that's nothing unusual. What's unusual is that glint in Steve's eyes. Something like pride and faith that Bucky's going to be the best damn side kick one could wish for. It's not a look Bucky's used to. Not one he's seen since his dad died.

And that's what makes Bucky admit to himself that he'd do this job even in a frilly apron if they told him to.


End file.
